


wet hot derry summer

by 70sBabe



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), M/M, also lots of 80s jams, just summer camp shenanigans, summer of 94, they're all dumb but everyone's dumb when they're 17
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:54:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22806664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/70sBabe/pseuds/70sBabe
Summary: the Losers Club are counselors at Camp Firewood, where they've spent every summer since they were seven. it's the summer before college and their last summer at camp, so they've got to make this one the best one yet.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Patricia Blum Uris/Stanley Uris
Comments: 12
Kudos: 53





	1. ooh, baby, do you know what that's worth?

“Gooooooood morning, Vietnam! You’re back with your host, Trashmouth Tozier, the only voice the good people at Camp Firewood trust to deliver all the news fit to print.”

Eddie groaned, pulling his covers up over his head. It was way too early for this shit. 

“With a voice made for radio and a face any mother could love - and trust me, they do - I’m rea-”

Sounds of a scuffle interrupted Richie’s monologue.

“Give me the freaking mic-

“Stan, this is my only job here, let me do the fu-

“Then do the announcements, you dickhe - ow! What the fuck, did you just bite me?”

“They don’t call me Trashmouth for nothing, baby!” Richie switched back to his radio voice. “And now, the morning announcements. Swim tests are going on from 10-2 down at the lake with the man, the myth, the legend himself: Ben “Haystack” Hanscom. Tell him I sent you, and he’ll give you an automatic pass!”

By this point, Eddie had sat up in bed, blearily surveying his cabin. Most of the kids had pillows shoved over their heads; although Richie was a popular counselor, no one appreciated the enthusiasm and volume he delivered the morning announcements with. 

“Today’s activities are arts and crafts in the pavilion with the beautiful Bevvy Marsh, soccer on the small field with Big Bill and Mike, archery with Greta, woodshop with Eddie K, canoeing with Betty and Patty-cake, nature hiking with Audra and Stanley the Manley, and, as always, I’m here! They haven’t figured out what to do with me yet, so come by the front office and we’ll just hang-”

There was another scuffle, before Stan’s voice came on the intercom. “Richie is running the camp talent show and will be in the main hall running auditions! If you have any questions, find Beth.”

“I still don’t understand why I have to do the talent show this year-”

“Just finish the announcements before Beth comes in here and yells at us both.”

“Breakfast starts in 20 minutes and will be over promptly at 9:30, no exceptions. I’m looking at you, Eddie Spaghetti.”

Eddie’s face burned as his campers all laughed and whooped. “Shut up and start getting ready, guys!” 

“And that’s me, signing off! Be excellent to each other, and party on, dudes!”

And with that, the opening notes of “Heaven Is a Place on Earth” started playing. 

“When is someone gonna tell him they kept making music after 1989?” one of Eddie’s campers grumbled.

“Believe me, we’ve tried,” Eddie rolled his eyes before standing up and clapping his hands together. “Alright, guys, we’re leaving in 15 minutes! If you’re not ready, we’re going without you and I’ll make sure Richie personally calls you out on tomorrow’s announcements.”

After minimal complaints and only two threats from Eddie, his cabin was out the door and on the way to the main hall by 8:25. 

“Hey, Eddie!” He turned to see Ben and his kids coming down the path. “I see you’re actually on time this morning.”

“Oh my God, it was one time! And the only reason was because I fell asleep with headphones in, so I didn’t hear Richie’s stupid voice on the loudspeaker and the kids didn’t wake-”

“Are you seriously still talking about this?” Bev sidled up alongside Eddie, still rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. “It was, like, two weeks ago, let it go.”

“I’m not the one who keeps bringing it up!”

“He’s just mad that Richie hasn’t been late yet,” Ben grinned.

“The only reason he hasn’t been late is because he does morning announcements so he’s already up!”

“Why did you guys get him started?” one of Eddie’s campers said. 

“Yeah, I’ve heard this, like, six times already, and I’m not even in his cabin,” one of Bev’s girls snickered. 

“Remind me again why I sign up for this shit every summer?” Eddie sighed over a chorus of “Swear jar!” from the campers.

“Because we were campers here at good old fashioned Camp Firewood when we were young and now we’re paying it forward,” Bev slung her arm around his shoulders, guiding him towards the door of the main hall. 

“Oh, are we doing the ‘pay-it-forward’ pep talk?” Stan looked up from his clipboard. He was checking in every cabin at the door. He was technically just a counselor like the rest of them, but when Beth’s assistant camp director pulled out at the last minute, Stan was the only one deemed competent enough to fill in. Pulling double-duty was making him a little more no-nonsense than usual, which is why Richie was making it his personal mission to drive him up the wall. 

“No, no pep talks, just everybody making fun of me for the stupidest shi-”

“Swear jar!”

“-stuff,” Eddie finished. “Also, if there’s a swear jar for us, there should definitely be one for the campers. Last night, I heard Billy Freeman using words that I don’t think have even been invented yet.”

“Snitching on campers, real mature,” Stan raised an eyebrow. “Get moving, you’re holding up the line.”

Eddie herded his group to their table and made sure everyone was settled before scanning the room for-

“Hey, Tozier!”

Richie, who was leaning on the cafeteria counter and bothering the lunch ladies, looked up quickly. When he saw Eddie, a grin spread over his face.

“Good morning, Eddie, baby!” He called, already making his way across the room towards Eddie. “Glad to see you’re turning over a new leaf, showing up on time, being a good example for the youngins.” 

As soon as he got close enough, Eddie punched him on the shoulder. “Stop mentioning me on your little radio broadcasts! It’s hard enough to get the campers to respect me when I’m barely taller than they are-”

“Oh, so you admit that you’re tiny?”

“I’m not tiny!” Eddie glared at him. “Can’t you, like, shit on Bill for forgetting to order baseballs so we’re using tennis balls until they come in? Or, look, look at Bev!” He gestured to the table next to them. “She’s literally asleep right now! Make fun of her.”

“I don’t usually take advice from outside sources,” Richie sighed dramatically. “But for you? I’ll make an exception.”

“Thanks.” Eddie looked towards the front of the room. “Hey, who’s doing the bell this morning?”

“Patty.”

“Hasn’t she done it the last three days?”

“Yeah, Stan thinks if he keeps giving her the easiest tasks on the job sheet, she’ll eventually get the hint and make out with him, or whatever.”

“That’s so stupid,” Eddie snorted. “She’s gonna end up thinking he’s a total creep.”

“I tried telling him that, but he told me to fuck off,” Richie shrugged. “Hey, wanna help me with the talent show auditions?”

“I’m doing woodshop until 12:30.”

“Come after.”

“You really don’t wanna do this, huh?”

“Eds, I’m gonna be terrible,” he whined. “Some poor kid is gonna get up there and start singing fucking ‘Creep’ or whatever and I’m gonna laugh at him and then Beth’s gonna yell at me for being mean to the campers!”

“And you really think having me there is gonna do anything about that?”

“Nah, I just wanna hang out,” Richie grinned.

At that moment, Patty made her way to the front of the room and rang the big brass bell that signified the beginning of each meal. It was also the signal for the campers’ who were on food duty that day to go up front and grab the trays for their table. 

Eddie pushed Richie towards his own table full of campers - all of whom were out of their seats and participating in various forms of roughhousing - and turned towards the front. He bitched about being in charge of a bunch of kids, but he secretly sort of liked being a good influence. Some of the kids even sort of thought he was cool. Of course, he didn’t inspire the adoration in his kids that Richie did with practically every camper, but it was nice, nonetheless. 

Patty rang the bell and called over the din, “Alright, guys, it’s chow time! One camper per table for food trays, one camper per table for drink pitchers, you know the drill!”

Eddie glanced over at Stan. He was standing by the front door, clipboard tucked close to his chest and a stupid grin on his face. _Yeah, Patty’s never gonna know he likes her at this rate_. 

* * *

“Okay, let’s start finishing up whatever you’ve got going on today, and once your workspace is clear, come see me so I can let you go.” Eddie watched his woodshop group start to put tools away and brush sawdust into the trash cans, still feeling that weird little thrill of “oh my god they’re actually listening to me.” When he first started as a counselor, his kids could tell he was nervous and took a lot of advantage. Bill still gives him shit for the time the kids convinced him to sneak into the dining hall after lights out and smuggle them some ice cream. 

“Sarah, you’re good. Isaiah, you’re good. Taylor, Sam, Claire, all good to go. Jamie, bud, it’s time to finish up, we can keep working tomorrow.” Eddie was hustling the kids a bit more than normal. He wanted to make it over to the main hall before the talent show auditions were over. 

“Alright, they’re all yours,” he called as soon as he was Bev and Bill approaching. He turned back to the kids. “If you wanna do crafts, stick with Bev. If you wanna play soccer, go with Bill. I’ll see you guys later!”

“Do you have KP tonight?” Bev said, silently counting up the kids congregating around her. 

“Nah, I think it’s Greta, Mike, and -”

“Me,” Bill sighed, looking at his own horde of campers. “Stan’s gotta stop giving Patty all the good gigs, it’s throwing everything out of whack. I did garbage three times last week!”

“Ah, but he’s young, he’s in love,” Bev sighed, clutching her chest and mock-swooning before straightening up. “Give him a break, he’s finally experiencing emotions like a normal person.”

“Stan experiences emotions,” Eddie snickered. “Anger and annoyance. Those are the ones he experiences.”

“I’ll give him a few more days, but it’s getting ridiculous,” Bill waved goodbye before turning to his group and saying, “Who’s ready to play soccer?” The kids all cheered as they set off towards the big field.

“One of these days, he’s gonna say ‘Let’s get ready to rumble’ and be completely serious and we’re just gonna have to take it,” Bev shook her head. “I still can’t believe he was the first guy I ever had a crush on.”

“Ah, summer ‘89,” Eddie grinned. “When ‘Funky Cold Medina’ was on repeat and nothing hurt.”

“Speak for yourself,” Bev snorts. “I was still firmly entrenched in my Roxette phase, which meant _everything_ hurt.”

“It must have been love,” Eddie warbled, hand over his heart. “But it’s over now!”

“Shut up,” Bev shoved him lightly. “You’re scaring the kiddos.”

The campers were all looking at them, fascinated by the older kids. Eddie remembered what it was like to be so in awe of the counselors you practically thought of them as celebrities. One time, he saw Ryan Sheane, one of his first counselors in the grocery store back home and was shocked. Counselors; they’re just like us!

“I’ll see you at dinner,” Eddie waved as Bev led the kids to the pavilion, then headed off towards the main hall.

Eddie had started coming to Camp Firewood when he was seven years old. It had taken forever to convince his mom, but after Bill, Stan, and Richie’s moms all told her how it was instrumental to a normal childhood, she caved. Not without sending him up here with a bag full of pills, sunscreen, and epipens, but Eddie still counted it as a win. 

Camp was where he met Mike, Ben, and Bev. Camp was where he figured out he could run fast and swim far and if he fell down, all he had to do was get back up again. Camp was where he didn’t have to be little Eddie Kaspbrak, with the crazy mom and the inhaler. Camp was where he felt like he could breathe. 

Eddie passed by the lake, waving to Ben, who waved back before blowing his whistle at two kids who were trying to push each other off the dock. _Been there_ , Eddie thought. He and Richie had been the bane of their counselors’ existence. Friends since they were toddlers, they both knew how to push each other’s buttons like nobody else. Except maybe Stan. Stan somehow seemed to know everything. _Except for how to talk to Patty_. 

As he walked up the front stairs, he heard the faint strains of music. _That sounds familiar…..wait, is that-_

“When a man loves a woman,” a thin, reedy, pre-pubescent voice was coming from the stage. “I know exactly how he feels, ‘cause baby, baby, baby, I am a man, when a man loves a woman.”

Slow clapping came from nearby, and Eddie noticed Richie sitting at a table covered in papers. His face was stone-cold serious, but Eddie could see he was three seconds away from losing his mind.

“Wow, Tucker, that was….just great. Michael Bolton. Bold choice, my man.”

“So, am I in?” Tucker, who was one of the theater kids that inevitably got shipped up here by parents who wanted them to be more outdoorsy, stared expectantly at Richie.

“I will do some thinking, maybe sleep on it, and I’ll let you know!” Richie beamed, looking down at the papers in front of him. Eddie cleared his throat and Richie looked up quickly. “Eds! Nice of you to join us!”

“Um, great job, Tucker,” Eddie smiled at the kid. “Michael Bolton is….uh, he’s great.”

Eddie heard a strangled noise from behind him, which quickly morphed into a cough. 

“Should I send in the next person?” Tucker looked over at Richie.

“No, not yet,” Richie shuffled his papers. Eddie was willing to bet there were dicks drawn on every sheet of paper. “I’m gonna grab a little lunch and talk strategy with my main man Eddie K over here. Gotta make this talent show the best one yet!”

“Yes, definitely!” Tucker smiled, before heading backstage, where (Eddie presumed) all the kids were hanging out.

He turned slowly to see Richie thunk his head down on the table and give a muffled scream.

“Oh, come on, it can’t be that bad!”

“You caught the tail-end of Tucker’s lounge act, right?” Richie looked up, glasses askew. “They’ve all been like that! And I love it because I love painfully earnest children, that’s one of the best parts of this job, but God, I can’t laugh! I can’t laugh! My appendix is gonna fucking explode!”

“I don’t think laughs come from your appendix.”

“Ashley Jensen did a hula hoop routine to ‘Physical’ by Olivia Newton-John. Do you know what the routine entailed?”

“No, I-”

“It was just her hula hooping! For the entire song!” Richie ran a hand through his hair, making the front stand up on end. “Chris from Ben’s cabin did a magic act that culminated in all of his props and cards falling out of his sleeves when he bowed. There was a trio that was doing a Peter, Paul, and Mary thing except they sang that Wilson Phillips song, the one that’s like ‘someday, somebody’s gonna make you wanna dadadadada ba da?'”

“Richie, take a breath, okay?” Eddie could see he was getting a little wound up. The combination of having to sit still for a few hours, coupled with the “no laughing” thing, and he was a few minutes away from an explosion. 

Richie put his head back down on the table. “Were we this embarrassing when we were kids?”

“Well, I wasn’t, but you definitely were,” Eddie slumped down in the chair next to him. “Remember the summer you wore sunglasses everywhere because you wanted to be Ferris Bueller, but they weren’t prescription, so you were basically just blind?”

“Hey, you were the kid with the fanny pack,” Richie brought his head back up. “And Bill had the stutter, and Stan was obsessed with birds, and Ben was fat, and…..were Mike and Bev embarrassing?”

“No, they were always cool.”

“Figures.”

They’re silent for a few seconds before Richie sighs. “I still have eight more to get through. Are you sticking around?”

“Duh,” Eddie grabbed the clipboard with the audition sheet on it. “Now, go get Wally Jensen - Jesus, what an unfortunate name - and let’s see if he can actually swallow swords.”

“There’s no way that’s what it says on the sign-up sheet.”

“Guess you’ll just have to find out.”

“Have I mentioned lately that you’re the fucking best?”

“Nah, but it’s always heavily implied.”


	2. it's only teenage wasteland

“Do you think he knows that  _ we _ all know that he got hot?”

“No, he’s too wholesome for that.”

“Come on! Objectively, he has to know he’s hot now.”

Eddie, Richie, and Bev were sitting by the lake and watching Ben conduct the last of the swim tests. They were also debating his hotness level.

“I think he knows he’s, like, in shape now,” Bev squinted her eyes against the setting sun. “But if you went up to him point-blank and were like, ‘Hey, Ben, are you hot?’ he’d be like, ‘Uh, yeah, it is a little humid out today.’”

“A beautiful idiot,” Richie sighed appreciatively. “He’s a dream. You better lock that down before I dazzle him with my sparkling wit and monster dong.”

“Don’t think Ben plays for that team,” Eddie rolled his eyes. Richie had a habit of wanting to seduce everyone he came across, which the rest of his friends had privately agreed was a deflective tactic. A deflective tactic for what, they couldn’t say.

“I think me and El Capitan can convince him,” Richie wiggled his eyebrows and cupped his junk. 

“The fact that Beth has known you for this long and still lets you come here and work with children is astonishing,” Bev shuddered. She looked back towards the lake, smiling when Ben waved at her. 

“We still on for a campfire after lights-out?” Eddie fiddled with the hem of his shorts. Today had felt weirdly long, even though his workload had been relatively light, and he was itching to just hang out with his friends. 

“Yeah, Mike and Bill are supposed to be setting out the wood right now,” Bev said. 

“Ooh, are we gonna roast weenies and tell ghost stories?” Richie beamed. “Eds, if you get scared, feel free to hide your face in my broad, manly shoulder.”

“The only weenie we’re gonna be roasting is yours.”

“Eddie, you gotta stop being so mean to me, or I swear to God, I’m gonna fall in love with ya.”

“Shut up,” Eddie said automatically, but his brain was already rushing right past insults and on to  _ oh my god, if he keeps doing this shit I’m gonna explode _ .

Eddie and Richie were best friends and had been for so long that the first time Eddie noticed the weird fluttering in his stomach when he saw Richie, he just assumed it was a puberty thing and moved past it. He soon found out that no, everybody did not seek out their best friend in every crowded room. Everybody did not go out of their way to get their best friend their favorite brand of chips that was discontinued, except at that convenience store on the other side of town. Everybody did not keep their eyes out for opportune moments to casually touch their best friend’s leg, wrist, shoulder, forehead, whatever. 

Eddie Kaspbrak had a big, fat crush on Richie Tozier, who was currently halfway through a bit where he was pretending his dick was on fire. Ridiculous. Idiotic. Really cute. 

And maybe Richie liked him back. He was always wrapping his arms around Eddie, always throwing out words like “baby” and “sweetheart” and “light of my life.” Of course, he also pinched Mike’s ass and gave Bev sloppy kisses on the cheek and constantly talked about how he and Stan were eventually gonna get married and then Stan would kill them both in a murder-suicide. 

_ “But not before I absolutely rock his world,” _ Richie would always wink and make blowjob motions or thrust exaggeratedly until Stan smacked him. 

So, yeah. Eddie didn’t know what to think. Factor that in with how his mother was sure to react to her precious baby bringing home a boy - and not just any boy, but Trashmouth Tozier - and it was just safer to do nothing. Pine. Yearn. A little longing. Hey, it had done wonders for Ben. He had been head-over-heels for Bev since they were kids, and his new dedication to staying in shape (like….. _ really _ good shape) was all for Bev, on the off-chance that she might look his way. 

_ Maybe if I get super-buff Rich’ll get the memo.  _ Eddie shook that thought away quickly. This was their last summer at Camp Firewood. This fall, they were all heading off to college and nothing would be the same. Eddie wasn’t gonna ruin that by telling Richie he liked him because Richie would be so…. _ Richie _ about it. He’d either be super earnest and tell Eddie he loved him, just not in “that way,” or he’d say something stupid like “Eds, I think this is your best chuck yet,” and Eddie would have to pretend he was just joking the entire time. Eddie couldn’t take either option, so he had decided to do nothing at all. 

* * *

“I smell like garbage.”

“You always smell like garbage.”

“Beep beep,” Bill glared at Richie from across the campfire. “Mike, back me up here.”

“You only smell like garbage because you tripped over a root and all the trash fell out of the bag and onto you,” Mike grinned, taking a drink from one of the contraband beers that Betty and Audra had snuck in last time they had camp leave. 

Bill just groaned. “One person on my side, that’s all I ask! Just one!”

“I’m on your side, Billy,” Patty smiled. “Trash duty sucks. I’m dreading having to do it on the next rotation.”

Everybody looked pointedly at Stan, who was suddenly fascinated by the marshmallow he was roasting. 

The conversation flowed easily, as it usually does when everyone has known each other for ten-plus years. Mike and Bill argued over the soccer game they had overseen that day (Bill insisted he would’ve won, if not for a badly-timed penalty call), Ben, Betty, and Patty commiserated over how hard it was to watch kids near a large body of water, and Greta pleaded with Stan to stop putting her on archery. 

“I swear to God, the kids are aiming for me!” 

“You’re the only one who’s good enough to teach.”

“Don’t you have, like, a Boy Scout merit badge for archery?”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to do it.”

“Suck a dick, Stan.”

“Nice way to talk to your supervisor, Grets.”

“Okay, can we all agree that Stanley is going power-mad?” Greta turned to the rest of them.

“Oh, for sure,” Richie nodded seriously. “Remember when he was hall monitor in third grade and tried to write up the principal for not having a pass?”

“He did  _ not _ !” Patty giggled.

“I did,” Stan admitted, looking shyly at her. “No one is above the law.”

Patty smiled back.  _ Okay, so maybe she’s not as clueless as we thought _ .

“Do you think that’s a ‘oh, Stan, you’re so funny and cute’ smile or her regular ‘I don’t understand you guys’ friendship rituals, but I smile because I love you guys’ smile?” Richie leaned over to whisper in Eddie’s ear.

“It’s hard to make a definitive call, but I think it’s the first one.”

“If Stan gets laid this summer, he’s gonna be even more insufferable than usual.”

“I don’t think Stan’s the type to kiss and tell,” Eddie wrinkled his nose. “You, on the other hand….”

“That’s what’ll make it so insufferable!” Richie’s eyes widened. “He’ll just be, like, silently happy and smug! It’s gonna make me wanna strangle him.”

“Your love for our friends is truly inspiring.”

Richie smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m just…..I don’t want anything to change this summer. ‘Cause it’s our last one, you know? And I want everything to be like it always is.” He let out a big breath. “Just one last summer.”

“Hey, we’re not dying or anything,” Eddie laughed. “We’re not just suddenly gonna stop being friends, either. Boston isn’t that far from New York. We’ll visit each other. You can annoy me in every state in the continental US if you want.”

“I know, but it’s still gonna be different,” Richie sighed. “Let’s talk about something else, I can feel myself starting to mope and the party just started!”

“Why don’t you break out the boombox?”

“Eddie, my love, with your brains and my beauty, we could take over the world.” Richie tousled his hair before getting up to grab the ancient boombox and the plastic grocery bag they kept all their cassette tapes in. 

Eddie watched him, a sad feeling starting to take root and grow in his chest. Richie was afraid that Stan and Patty getting together would change things, so how would he take Eddie telling him he'd had a crush on him since forever? Not well, that’s how he would take it.  _ It’s fine _ , Eddie thought.  _ He doesn’t need to know. He’s your best friend and you can’t do anything to mess that up because without Richie, you’re not you _ . 

“Alrighty, girls and gals, friends and pals, this one goes out to a very special guy,” Richie was doing his radio voice, the one that made him sound like Casey Kasem. “Everybody’s favorite hypochondriac: the incomparable Dr. K!”

The unmistakable opening notes of “Baba O’Riley” started rising through the night air as everybody cheered. Eddie looked around at his friends, all kinda-sorta grown up now, all getting ready to move on from Camp Firewood. He loved them all so much, it sometimes felt like that’s all there was inside him. And then he looked at Richie, who was grinning and singing the lyrics into an uncooked hot dog, hamming it up like he always did. His face wasn’t as round as it had been when they were kids. His hair was longer and his glasses were hard, black plastic frames instead of the tortoiseshell ones he used to wear. But he still looked exactly the way he did when they were kids. Still smiling so wide you could see all his teeth. Still trying to shake his hair out of his eyes. Still Richie.

_ I don’t want anything to change, either _ , Eddie decided. Richie was right.  _ One last summer. One last, perfect summer. _

Then he got up to join his friends in dancing around the fire, yelling the lyrics along with them. And yeah, his heart might’ve started beating faster when Richie grabbed his hands and spun him around until they both fell down, but what about it? It was probably the sugar-rush from all those marshmallows. 


	3. i reminisce about the days of old

“Good morning, kids! It’s everyone’s favorite shock-jock, Richie “Trashmouth” Tozier, although friends and your moms call me 'Dick.' I’m sure you can gu-”

“Do not make me hit you with the mic again, ‘cause I’ll do it.”

“Oh, yeah? You and what army, Stan the Man?”

“I’ll get Mike and Ben-”

“As if they would take your side over mine!”

“Just do the fuc-”

“Swear jar!”

“.....the _freaking_ announcements.”

“Well, campers, now that I’ve stopped being so rudely interrupted: the announcements. Our intrepid sports teams captains have decided you rugrats can handle baseball, so if you’re feeling the urge to knock one out of the park, join Billy D and Mikey on the big field. Don’t worry; the baseballs finally came in! Everybody make sure to keep giving Bill crap for forgetting to order them, though. Let’s see, let’s see…..arts and crafts with Betty and Ben, water sports with Bev and Greta, capture the flag with Patty and Audra, and archery with Stan! Extra points if you hit him with an arrow!”

“If anyone hits me with an arrow, I’m taking away your desserts for the rest of the summer.”

“And last, but certainly not least, me and Eddie Spaghetti are doing the nature hike today! Meet us at the trailhead by Cabin 6 for a heck of a good time! Breakfast at 8:30; be there or be mercilessly mocked for the rest of the day. And that’s me, signing off. Now, let’s groove to some of that old time rock and roll, Camp Firewood!”

_“Just take those old records off the shelf, I’ll sit and listen to ‘em by myself, today’s music ain’t got the same soul, I like that old time rock and roll!”_

* * *

“Alright, guys, circle up,” Eddie called over the voices of their campers. “Me and Richie have talked about it, and we decided you’re a pretty solid group of hikers.” He stopped to take a breath, relishing in the dramatic pause. Enough time spent with Richie could have anyone playing to the back of the house. “So, we’ve decided we’re gonna do Bear Creek today.”

“Oh, fuck yeah!” 

“Gavin!”

“The swear jar is just for you guys,” Gavin, one of the more boisterous campers said slyly. 

“Yeah, but we’re also in charge of you rugrats, which means we can get Stan to get Beth to change the rules any time we want,” Richie raised his eyebrows. “How’d you like to spend all your snack bar money at Camp Firewood’s illustrious swear jar?”

Gavin mumbled something Eddie couldn’t quite make out, but he was sure it was something along the lines of “unfair” and “stupid” and “fuck you.” Eddie wasn’t too old to forget that being 12 could sometimes suck so bad, it almost hurt. 

“But since you’ve shown initiative, why don’t you help me out today?” Richie was smiling now, that special smile that made whoever he turned it on feel like the only person in the world. “Wanna be my right-hand man?”

“Yeah!” Gavin smiled and nodded his head enthusiastically. 

“Well, now that we’ve got that taken care of,” Eddie rolled his eyes. “Bear Creek. Everybody got their water bottles? Yes? Okay, find a buddy and stick with them for the hike. And no, Britney, you cannot pair up with me.”

Britney, who had thrust her hand eagerly in the air a few seconds before, slowly lowered it. 

“She’s so obsessed with you, it would be hilarious if it wasn’t so sweet,” Richie muttered, then paused. “Oh, wait, it’s totally hilarious. And also sweet, because why not both?”

“It’s been, like, two years!” Eddie hissed back. “When is she getting over this?”

“Do you not remember Mike’s absolute infatuation for Cynthia when we were, like 9?”

“Oh, God, when he carved that little wooden dog or whatever and gave it to her on the last night of camp?”

“Be on the lookout for a lock of Britney’s hair in a locket she makes in arts and crafts.”

“You’re _so_ not funny.”

“You love it.”

“Not even a little bit.”

“Your mom loves it.”

“My mom actively hates your guts.”

“Ah, but she loves it when I’m all up in her gu-”

“Alright, let’s get going!” Eddie clapped his hands together in that way that only parents and people who work with kids do. “Me and Rich are leading. Gavin, you and Sylvia can be our cabooses. Make sure no one falls behind, okay?”

Gavin gave him a snappy salute, and the gesture was so Richie-like, it almost made Eddie burst out laughing. 

They started down the trail, a path that was as familiar to both Eddie and Richie as the backs of their hands. Or even the backs of each other’s hands. Eddie could give a categorized list of every scar Richie had, along with the when, where, why, and how. 

_He actually does have a scar on the back of his left hand_ , Eddie thought idly. _From when we were playing the knife game in Bill’s basement and he accidentally stabbed himself. Not bad enough to need stitches. So fucking funny._

“Alright, sports fans, we gotta lot of ground to cover, so stay sharp!” Richie was doing his usual patter for the kids, who ate it up every year like candy. “Dangerous things out in these woods, ya dig? Lions, tigers, and bears, oh my!”

“If any of you see a lion, tiger, or bear, I will give you my paycheck at the end of the summer,” Eddie snorted. 

“Eds here is a bit cynical, which you all know if you’re a return customer here at Camp Firewood,” Richie stage-whispered conspiratorially to the kids. They giggled, awe-struck. Everyone was awe-struck by Richie Tozier. Or, at least, they should be, in Eddie’s opinion. 

Richie turned back around and flashed Eddie a shit-eating grin. 

“Ain’t it great to be back in the welcoming embrace of Mother Nature’s ample bosom?” He swaggered a little as they walked, probably trying out a new character. Always trying to be someone else. Stan and Eddie had talked about it once before, when they were 14, but they were too young and didn’t yet have the words to describe why it worried them.

“As if we don’t spend most of our time outside at home.”

“Yeah, but this is different.”

“How?”

“Don’t know,” Richie shrugged. “Just is.”

And he was right. It was. But Eddie would never let him know that. 

* * *

“And then he ate a fucking worm-”

“Sammy dared me to!”

“Sammy’s 11 and you’re supposed to be in charge!” Eddie snapped. Ben and Betty were in hysterics. After the hike, Eddie and Richie had crashed the last half-hour of arts and crafts and were now helping with clean-up.

“Didn’t you eat a cricket one time?” Betty snickered, gathering markers and putting them into an old coffee can. 

“Yes, but that one was for fun,” Richie grinned rakishly, the one Bev called his “Han Solo look.” 

“I don’t understand how you’ve made it this far,” Ben shook his head ruefully. 

“I’m a medical miracle,” Richie struck a superhero pose. “My indestructibility and, of course, my-”

“Monster dong,” Betty, Ben, and Eddie chorused. 

“Get new material, you fucker,” Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Get a new face.”

“Get a new-”

“Both of you get lost,” Betty laughed, shoving them lightly towards the door. “Ben and I have clean-up under control and you two obviously have some steam to let off.”

“Now, why would you think that?” Richie smiled, before slinging an arm around Eddie’s shoulder and leading him away. “Eddie, my love, what should we do with this unexpected extra time in our day? Drinks? Dancing? Maybe cut straight to some passionate love-making in the bushes behind Cabin 3?”

“You’re disgusting.”

“And you love it,” Richie grinned dopily at him. Eddie felt that familiar swooping sensation in his stomach. It hurt. It always did. Richie was so obscenely romantic with him, and it was all a joke, and it stung like a dozen papercuts. 

“Let’s just - let’s go steal ice cream from the snack bar,” he finally sighed. “I’m tired.”

“You feeling okay, Eds?” Richie’s brow furrowed and all joking dropped from his tone. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Eddie said waspishly. He could only take so much of Richie's casual affection before it made him start to feel insane. “I’m just not in the mood for - for whatever the fuck we usually do. Sorry,” he threw in at the end, so Richie would know he wasn’t mad. Richie couldn’t stand for people to be mad at him. 

“Ah, you mean the regularly-scheduled ‘Richie and Eddie Verbal Cage Match’ we’ve been running for the last,” Richie looked down at his bare wrist. “15 years?”

Eddie smiled. He couldn’t help it. “Yeah, exactly.”

“Say no more, compadre,” Richie mimed locking his lips and throwing away the key. They walked in silence for a few minutes before Eddie broke.

“Oh my God, fine, keep talking, I can’t take this.”

“Can’t go even five minutes without my dulcet tones and sweet nothings whispered in your ear, huh?”

“More like Fritos-flavored dick jokes being blasted at my face.”

“Oh, so you’re into facial stuff? Noted.”

“Changed my mind, I actually want you to staple your mouth shut.”

“Too late.”

* * *

“Eddie?”

“Hmmphh?”

“Eddie, are you awake?”

Eddie felt like his brain was swimming up to the surface of the lake. A voice was coming from far away.

“Whaa?” He finally managed to get out. His eyes weren’t open yet, but he was working on it.

“Eddie, come on, I have to pee and I don’t wanna go out alone.”

“Danny, we’ve talked about this,” Eddie sat up slowly. He finally managed to get his eyes open and was met with the sight of Danny Bensen standing at the foot of his bed. The rest of the cabin was silent, everyone else asleep because it was - Eddie looked at the glow-in-the-dark face of his watch - “Danny, it is 2:33 in the _morning_. This couldn’t have waited?”

“Peter dared me to drink a whole pitcher of Kool-Aid at dinner,” Danny said quietly, twisting the hem of his Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles t-shirt in his hands.

“Peter Lawrence from Cabin 5?”

Danny nodded and Eddie made a mental note to tell Bill to keep his fucking kids in line. 

“Okay, fine,” he swung his legs off the bed and onto the floor. “But this is the last time, I mean it.”

“Thank you,” Danny smiled. They both knew Eddie was gonna keep going with Danny to the shower house as long as he needed him to. Camp was dark and spooky at night, even to a seasoned pro like Eddie, and the walk to the shower house was long. Also, it’s creepy peeing alone there at night. 

“Do you always take the dares people give you?” Eddie said as they walked quickly up the hill. 

“Um, yeah,” Danny said shortly. “It’s a dare. You have to do it, or everyone thinks you’re a-” He stopped short. 

“Go ahead, say whatever you were gonna say,” Eddie grinned. “I’m too tired to get on you about your language.”

“Everyone will think you’re a pussy if you don’t take a dare,” Danny said softly. “And I’m - I’m not a pussy.”

Eddie remembered that feeling; that sharp urge to do whatever was asked of you, all to prove that you could hang tough just like the rest of them. Luckily, his dares were usually from Richie and they were things like “Lick your elbow,” “Lick _my_ elbow,” or “Jump off that rock over there.”

“I get it,” Eddie said slowly, ridiculously wishing that Ben was here right now. He always knew what to say to the kids. “Believe me, I do. But don’t do anything you don’t want to do, okay? Anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

“Bu-”

“And if anyone gives you shit, tell me, and I’ll take care of it.”

“Really?” Danny looked up at him, eyes shining, and Eddie suddenly remembered why he liked this job so much. He really cared about all the kids he saw, really wanted to help them have a great summer. Camp Firewood had done so much for him as a kid and, to borrow from Bev’s pep talk, it was time to pay it forward. 

“Really,” Eddie confirmed as they walked up the steps to the shower house. “Now pee quick before I decide to leave you out here alone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay i know nothing's really happening yet but im trying to establish all the characters/show the day-to-day routine but things will start happening soon pinky swear!


	4. if you'll be my bodyguard, i can be your long lost pal

“Alright, now that we’re all here, let’s get started,” Stan looked down at the clipboard that seemed perma-glued to his hands these days. It was their weekly staff meeting, which meant Stan was gonna post the task list and they’d find out who got leave this week. 

Overnight leave was once a month, and Eddie knew his wasn’t until the end of the month, but his day leave should be coming up anytime now. His fingers were crossed for this week. The kids were driving him up a wall and last night, Richie had put his arm around Eddie’s waist at the campfire and then just…..left it there. Eddie thought his head was gonna explode. So yeah, he needed a little break from camp. 

“All the activities seem to be running pretty smoothly, but whoever’s on water sports, just be extra careful, okay?” Stan said. “I know we’ve done the swim tests and everything should be in order there, but they’re still kids near a large body of water. Keep an eye out.”

“Aye, aye, captain!” Richie saluted him.

“Richie, how is the talent show going?” Stan gave him the evil eye. “Have you got everything planned out?”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Richie nodded vigorously. “Me and the kids decided to bunk the whole talent show thing and just do an extra-explicit version of _Hair_.”

“Richie.”

“Everything’s under control, Staniel, swear on my life,” Richie smiled. “When have I ever let you down?”

“Do you want an itemized list?” Stan said dryly. 

“Oh, I would _love_ one,” Bev interjected, her eyes sparkling. 

“You that hard up for reading material, Marsh?” Richie shot back. Bev blew a raspberry at him, which earned an admiring look from Ben. 

“I talked to Beth and she said the candle-making thing was fine by her, as long as you guys know what you’re doing,” Stan frowned at Audra and Mike. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

“Stan, you dip a string into wax,” Audra said. “A chimpanzee could do it. Richie could do it.”

“I mean, you’d think so,” Eddie snickered. “But I seem to remember a very specific incident that we called-”

“Oh, my fucking God, the Wax Dick Incident of ‘88,” Bill laughed. “How did I forget about that?”

“Okay, well, somebody better fucking explain that one,” Patty said, looking at each of the Losers in turn.

“I spilled some wax! It was near my crotch! It might have burned my penis!” Richie threw his hands up. “There was never any wax directly on my dick, Patts, these guys were just assholes back then, and they still are.” He glared at Eddie, which just made Eddie laugh harder. 

“Well, now that we’re done with that trip down memory lane,” Stan chuckled. “Day leave. Eddie, Ben, Bev, you guys are up.”

“Hell yeah,” Bev pumped her fist in the air before turning around to smile at Ben, who looked like a dog who’d just been tossed a bone - but, like, in the most wholesome way possible.

“Stan, me and Eddie always get leave together,” Richie stood up and tried to grab Stan’s clipboard, but Stan held onto it like it was the last lifeboat off the Titanic.

“Let go, you idiot-”

“Just give me the fucking schedule, you fucked it up-”

“Don’t be a fucking child-”

“I’m gonna piss in your cornflakes-”

“Hey!”

Both boys froze, their eyes wide and staring at Patty. She had broken out what the rest of them referred to as her “Not Fucking Around” voice that she only used when the kids were being absolutely batshit. It always worked, too, because the rest of the time, she was so calm and easygoing. Meanwhile, if Eddie tried to speak in a louder, harsher tone…..well, he couldn’t get much louder or abrasive.

“Richie, let go of Stan’s clipboard.” Richie’s hands immediately dropped to his sides. “Stan, can you explain to Richie why he might not have the leave shift that he wants, using your grown up words?” 

Bev had grabbed Eddie’s hand as soon as Patty had spoken up, and was now squeezing it so hard, it was turning purple. Both of them were trying so incredibly hard not to burst out laughing. 

“Patty-”

“Stanley.”

Stan sighed. “Richie. You don’t have leave with Eddie because I need you here on Friday for the campfire. If you had leave, you’d get back too late, and you’re the best at getting the kids to sing all the stupid songs, so…..I need you to be here.”

“Stan,” Richie said, wiping a fake tear from his eye. “That was…..so beautiful. You _need_ me? I never knew you felt this wa-”

“Richie.” Patty’s tone was definitely a warning. He quickly dropped the emotional act.

“Sorry I flipped out, Stan the Man. I know you’re working hard, trying to keep this ship running.” Richie clapped a hand on Stan’s shoulder. “But I better have overnight leave with Eds.” He turned around to wink at Eddie. “Can’t be breaking up the dream team, now can we?”

“You are such a fucking drama queen,” Eddie rolled his eyes. Richie had made a huge scene, all because they weren’t gonna have the same leave this rotation, and for what? Just to be a bigger pain in Stan’s ass than he already was? And yeah, part of Eddie was disappointed that he and Richie wouldn’t be able to fuck around town the way they usually did, but also…..well, like he’d been thinking before, it would be nice to have some time away from Richie. Time to sort through his thoughts. Time to decide what he wanted to do. You know, if he ever decided to do anything at all. 

* * *

“So, I’m thinking we stop by Walmart, get some essentials, and then the liquor store,” Bev wiggled her eyebrows, grinning wickedly. 

“Well, I can’t get the booze,” Eddie sighed. “My fucking face is just - just perpetually 12, I guess.”

“Aww, but you’re so damn cute,” Bev cooed. “And anyways, Ben’ll be getting it.”

“Why me?” Ben tried to sound outraged, but the smile on his face gave him away. The three of them were walking down the gravel path to the parking lot where a handful of cars were parked. Ben had been driving a rundown truck since they were 15, and he loved it like it was a member of his family. Eddie had a certain fondness for it, too. He loved cars, but his mom wouldn’t let him get behind the wheel when everyone was getting their permits. That summer, Ben had taught him how to drive on the empty dirt roads around camp. He taught Eddie how to change a tire and check the oil and cool off an overheated engine. Ben was great like that. 

“Because you’re the only one who actually looks like a grown ass adult,” Bev quickly slipped her arm around his waist, sidling closer to him. Eddie looked away, a grin on his face. _Looks like Bev’s finally realized Ben’s probably the best person we know_.

“Um,” Ben coughed, looking down at Bev’s arm and then back up at her. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Geez, don’t hurt yourself, Benny boy!” Eddie turned around to see Richie behind them, smiling so big it took up his whole face. 

“What do you want, Rich?” Bev sounded unfazed by his sudden appearance.

“Just wanted to see my intrepid travelers off safely,” Richie sauntered over. “Can’t believe you’re all gonna go have a threesome without me.”

“Well, then it wouldn’t be a threesome, now would it?” Eddie raised his eyebrows.

“Touché, Eds.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be helping Bill with performing arts?” Ben piped up.

“Yeah, but I figured I’d let him sweat it out a bit, make him think he’ll have to run that shit by himself.”

“How come Stan took him off the sports rotation today?”

“I wore him down,” Richie snickered. “Because how fucking funny is it gonna be to see Big Bill, the perpetual jock, try to play zip zap zop with a bunch of theater kids?”

“Bill’s not a jock, he just thinks he is,” Eddie rolled his eyes. “Now, go do your fucking job so we can get out of here.”

“Looking forward to Trashmouth-free time?” Richie grabbed Eddie’s hands, swinging him around in a circle before letting go. “Can’t say I blame ya. You know, I’ve been _told_ I’m a little bit much sometimes.”

“You’re kidding,” Eddie said dryly.

Bev detached herself from Ben and threw her arms around Richie’s neck, who responded by dipping her low. “You know we love you, Rich. Now let us go buy shitty beer for the afterparty tonight.”

“Bevvy, baby, I’m gonna marry you one day, I swear.” Richie planted a kiss on her cheek with a loud smack. Ben coughed uncomfortably. “Oh, Haystack, don’t worry, I didn’t forget you.” Richie let go of Bev and grabbed Ben’s face, kissing him on the cheek, too.

“Uh, thanks,” Ben blushed. He had never gotten used to the way Richie was almost violently affectionate, dishing out hugs and kisses with enough force to leave bruises. 

“And Eddie,” Richie turned towards him. “Eddie, my love, light of my life, fire in my loins-”

“Shut up!”

“C’mere,” Richie launched himself towards Eddie, grabbing him around the middle and smacking a kiss on his forehead. “What a cutie, am I right, Bev?”

“Super cute,” Bev sounded like she was holding back laughter. 

“Richie, I swear to God, if you keep slobbering on me all summer, I’m gonna fucking rip out your tongue,” Eddie wiggled out of grasp. 

“Promise?” Richie smiled, still cartoon-character wide, but his eyes were so….soft. Fond. That’s what made it all hurt so much. Eddie knew Richie loved him, but it was the way he loved all the Losers. Like brothers and sisters, like a handful of puzzle pieces that fit together effortlessly. Not in….that way.

“Go help Bill,” Eddie shoved him lightly. “We’ll see you tonight.”

“I’ll be counting the minutes!”

* * *

“Do you guys _promise_?”

“Yes, Ben,” Eddie groaned. “For the hundredth time, Bev and I promise to bail you out of jail if you get busted for trying to buy alcohol.”

“You’ve done this before!” Bev put her hand on his shoulder. “You got this, Benny. Time to show us what you’re made of.”

“You sound like Bill before his team gets its ass beat by Mike’s team,” Ben sighed. “Okay. I’m ready to do this.”

“Fuck yeah,” Eddie reached over Bev from the other side of the bench seat to punch Ben’s shoulder. “Make us proud.”

Ben nodded, then opened the truck door and headed into the liquor store.

“How did he ever become friends with us?” Bev leaned back, bringing her knees up to her chin. “I mean, he’s, like, the nicest person in the world, and we’re all assholes.”

“We’re not assholes,” Eddie dropped his head to rest on top of hers. “Ben’s friends with us because we were the only people who _weren’t_ assholes to him when we were kids.”

“I think I like him,” Bev said casually, the way that only Bev could. Eddie couldn’t fathom just nonchalantly dropping a confession like that into a conversation. Bev had always been brave about things like that. 

“About damn time.”

“What do you mean?”

“Beverly,” Eddie said sternly. “You can’t seriously expect me to believe that you haven’t seen that Ben’s been in love with you since we were, like, 10.”

“He’s just - that doesn’t mea - that’s just how he is!” Bev spluttered. 

“Yeah, but it’s different with you.”

“How?”

Eddie shrugged, closing his eyes against the setting summer sun. He felt warm, inside and out. “Dunno. Just is. It’s probably harder to see from your side, though.”

“Huh.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a few seconds before Bev said, “So, when are you gonna tell Richie you’re in love with him?”

Eddie’s eyes snapped open. He jerked his head off of Bev and stared at her, mouth open. “What are you talking about?”

Bev squinted at him. “Eddie. Come on.”

“Bev, I really don’t thi-”

“You know how you said Ben’s different with me?” She reached out to put her hand on top of Eddie’s. “You’re different with him. Always have been. And I really think you shou-”

“No, okay?” Eddie’s voice was louder than he had intended, but at least it had gotten Bev to stop. “He doesn’t - he- it’s not like you and Ben, okay? Richie doesn’t want that.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he told me he doesn’t want anything to change this summer,” Eddie felt like the words were being dragged out of him. “He wants everything to stay the same because this is our last summer and if I - it’ll ruin everything and it’s our last summer, okay? I can’t let anything mess this up because if we stop being friends, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“Eddie, you guys may not want anything to change,” Bev said slowly. “But we’re all leaving at the end of the summer. For good. We’re going to college and - fuck, Eddie, everything’s gonna change anyways.”

“I know,” Eddie said in a small voice. “Fuck, of course I know that. But it’s not just about that, it’s…..he doesn’t like me like that, alright? And I’m not gonna fuck everything up just because I’ll be in New York and he’ll be in Boston this fall.”

“You don’t know that he doesn’t like you that way.”

“Yeah,” Eddie laughed shakily. “Yeah, I do. Because there’s no - I just know.”

“Okay,” Bev said simply, laying her head on his shoulder, still holding his hand. She rubbed small circles on it with her thumb. 

Eddie closed his eyes, trying to stop his heart from beating out of his chest. “How did you know?”

“That you’re in love with-”

“Love is a strong word-”

“Okay, that you _like_ Richie?” 

“Yeah.”

Bev shrugged. “You look at him different. Like…..like you know everything about him, but he still fascinates you. You guys just click together.”

“Do you think he knows?”

“Nah,” Bev grinned. “You’re too goddamn mean to him. That’s why he likes you so much.”

“Thank God for small miracles,” Eddie looked at her from the corner of his eye. “How long have you, uh-”

“Since we were 13. We played spin-the-bottle and when Rich spun it, it landed on Stan. He kissed Stan, totally just to piss him off, but your face got really red and you went to the bathroom and stayed there for, like, 20 minutes and-”

“Jesus, I get it, I’m painfully obvious.”

“Yeah,” Bev snorted. “But luckily for you, all of our friends are just stunningly obtuse. I think Bill could see you stick your tongue down Richie’s throat, and he’d still be like, ‘The way they bully each other is getting weirder and weirder.’”

Eddie started laughing at that, really, _really_ laughing. “He - h-he totally w-would!” He choked out between giggles. Bev started laughing, too, clutching Eddie’s arm like a life preserver. They were still hysterical by the time Ben got back with the booze. 

“If this is you guys sober, I’m scared to see you drunk,” he raised an eyebrow. 

“Ben would say the same thing as Bill,” Bev hissed into Eddie’s ear, and they were off again, shrieking with laughter as Ben drove them back towards camp. 

* * *

Eddie was drunk. It felt good. _Sooooo good_ . It wasn’t his first rodeo or anything, but he was a little more smashed than normal. Audra had shown him how to mix Mike’s whiskey (because he was so fucking cool, he just _had whiskey_ with him) with 7-Up and fuck, it tasted amazing. 

“To Ben!” Mike raised his solo cup. “You’re the only other one here who could believably buy booze.”

“I object!” Richie raised his own beer can. “You think I couldn’t talk my way into a couple 12-packs?”

“I think you could talk your way right into a juvenile detention center,” Mike grinned.

“And I’d be running the place in no time,” Richie kicked his feet up on the stump in front of him. “A kingdom built on cigarettes and toilet wine.”

“Gross,” Betty wrinkled her nose as she passed Stan and Patty more beers. 

“Trashmouth,” Richie pointed at himself, like it explained everything. 

Eddie looked around the circle, a warm feeling spreading through his chest as he watched all of his friends. Ben had his arm around Bev, looking like he was waiting for someone to wake him up from a dream. Bill and Mike were trying to play flip-cup on the rickety table they had dragged out here, but were failing miserably. Greta and Audra were watching and almost pissing their pants laughing. Stan and Patty were sitting next to each other, both cutting shy glances at the other. _He’s_ gotta _make his move tonight_ , Eddie thought hazily. He completed his scan of the area with Richie, who was now trying to pull Betty up to dance with him to the tinny sound of “You Can Call Me Al” coming from the boombox. 

Drunk Eddie felt a certain freedom to stare at Richie as long as he wanted, especially after he and Bev had already established that all of their friends were beautiful idiots. So, he stared. Richie’s eyes, which could never quite decide on what color they wanted to be, were sparkling behind his glasses. His mouth was quirked up on one side, a sign that meant he was trying not to start laughing. Eddie couldn’t really hear him from the other side of the campfire, but he could guess that he was saying something about how the song was perfect because “your name is Betty! So I _can_ call you Betty, and Betty, when you call _me_ , you can call me Al!”

Eddie simultaneously loved and detested the overpowering affection he had for Richie. Yeah, he could be annoying and disgusting and he could drive Mother Teresa to murder, but he was also kind and smart and funny and - well, he was pretty much perfect to Eddie. 

_Would it really be so bad if you told him?_ A little voice in the back of Eddie’s head whispered. _Would it really be so terrible if things changed?_

“Eddie Spaghetti!” Richie’s honking voice quickly dispelled those thoughts. 

“Fuck you, not my name,” Eddie almost slurred. He wasn’t quite at the slurring stage, but he was close. Richie slumped down on the ground next to him, knees knocking into Eddie’s. 

“Everybody’s pairing up, huh?” Richie said in a low voice, eyes a little unfocused as he gazed at the couples around the campfire.

Eddie hummed in acknowledgement. 

“Remember when we were, like 8, and you, me, Stan, and Bill promised we were never gonna let a girl give us cooties?”

“What are cooties anyways?” Eddie cocked his head, trying to follow the thread of this conversation. “Crabs?”

“Jesus, Eds,” Richie sounded shocked and pleased, the way he always did when Eddie said something particularly mean or crass or just plain funny. He turned to face Eddie, eyes wide behind his glasses. 

From this close, Eddie could see the freckles that were only on the bridge of his nose and the weird scar on his chin from when he cracked it open on a toilet bowl (they were very drunk and Richie puked in the toilet with, like, a superhuman velocity). He could see how happy Richie was to be here, at camp, with his friends. _With me_.

“This song sucks,” he blurted out suddenly. “I mean, what the fuck does it mean? What is a bat-faced girl? And what does angels in the architecture mean?”

“It’s poetry, my man,” Richie leaned back on his elbows. “Pure poetry.”

“You only like it ‘cause Chevy Chase is in the music video.”

“It’s also got a banging beat.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

And suddenly, without quite knowing that he was doing it, Eddie dropped his head onto Richie’s shoulder. He’d done this before, at sleepovers and parties, and it always made him feel good. Safe. Like Richie would always be there to lean on, no matter what. 

“Oh, you’re really drunk, huh,” Richie laughed softly. 

“Yep.”

“You ready to go to sleep?”

“Uh huh.”

“Alright, gimme a sec.”

Richie got up slowly, pulling Eddie to his feet. Eddie could feel his eyes starting to close of their own volition. 

“Guys, we got our first casualty of the night,” Richie announced, grabbing Eddie’s arm and draping it around his neck. 

“Boo!”

“Eddie, you gotta learn to hold your liquor!”

“Yeah, Audra and Mike, this one’s on you,” Richie scolded. “Whiskey and 7-Up? Atrocious.”

“Want me to take him?” Mike said, and Eddie really, really hoped Richie would say no.

“Nah, I got it,” Richie shifted Eddie slightly against him. “Not my first rodeo with the Edster here.”

“Fuck you,” Eddie mumbled, earning laughs from the whole group. Their “goodnights” all blended together and, before he knew it, Eddie found himself being walked slowly down the hill towards the cabins.

“You’re lucky you’re fun-sized,” Richie muttered. “Any bigger and I’d have left you in the woods to sleep it off.”

Eddie didn’t say anything; just let himself be led through the trees and towards his cabin full of (hopefully) sleeping campers. Richie stopped in front of the steps, carefully detaching himself from Eddie.

“You good to get in there by yourself?”

“Yeah,” Eddie sighed. “I’m not that drunk, I’m just so - so tired.” He spoke those last words through a powerful yawn.

“Holy shit, Eds, you’re cute,” Richie chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s like being friends with a puppy. Or Winnie the Pooh.”

“Fuck you, Tigger.”

“You know what? That’s accurate.”

They stood there for a few seconds, looking at each other. Eddie was too drunk and tired to try not to stare. He didn’t know what Richie’s excuse was. 

“Hey, Eds-”

Eddie interrupted him by throwing his arms around Richie’s neck. He didn’t know what had come over him, but he did know that he just needed to hold on to Richie, right now. Richie responded quickly, his arms encircling Eddie’s waist and squeezing lightly.

“You’re my best friend,” Eddie muttered into Richie’s shoulder. “You know that, right?”

Richie laughed again, the sound feeding that warmth that grew in Eddie’s chest whenever they were together. “Yeah, dude, I know.”

“Just making sure.”

Richie pulled him a little closer, leaning down to rest his chin on Eddie’s shoulder. They stood like that for a few beats before Eddie realized what he was doing. He quickly drew back, like he’d been shocked, leaving Richie with his arms up and a startled expression on his face.

“Eddie-”

“I’m gonna go to sleep,” he said shortly, already feeling a blush creeping over his face.

“Eddie, I wan-”

“Richie, I’m really tired and really drunk and I have to be the lifeguard tomorrow morning, which seems really dangerous now that I think about it and I just - I need to sleep.”

“Okay,” Richie sounded a little confused. “I’ll, uh, I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“‘Night, Rich.”

“Goodnight, Spagheds.”

Eddie turned and walked quickly up the steps to the cabin, opening the door quietly and slipping inside. He leaned his back against the door, trying to steady his breathing. He had to stop doing this. It was getting too hard and, after that little display outside, Richie was definitely starting to catch on. Eddie would rather die than have Richie figure out he daydreamed about holding his hand. 

“Fuck,” he said quietly. 

“Swear jar,” a groggy voice said from somewhere in the cabin.


End file.
